No Bridge too High v2
by emergencyfan
Summary: Trapped off world on a collapsed bridge, Ronon must care for Sheppard until help can arrive. Wet adaptation of Nebbyjen's original story - No Bridge Too High.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ****No Bridge Too High (v2)** adapted by Emergencyfan. Original story by NebbyJen.

**Summary:** Trapped off world on a collapsed bridge, Ronon must care for Sheppard until help can arrive.

**Rating:** Teen for slight swearing, but nothing bad.

**Category:** Hurt/Comfort, friendship

**Spoiler/Season:** None/We're going back to pre-Keller time because I miss Carson!

**A/N:** Jen already had a hefty start on her story when I opened my big beta mouth and said "what if" one too many times. She sweetly suggested that I get off my lazy butt and write my own version then very kindly backed me into a corner by telling everyone there was a "wet" version of the story in the works ;-). So here it is, in four chapters. Ronon's not one of my favs so I can't honestly say it was a labor of love, but I gave it my best shot. I hope you'll find it entertaining. (You can find Jen's original version "No Bridge Too High" on this site as well.)

Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to MGM. All mistakes belong to me. Thanks to Jen for the inspiration (aka "kick in the ass") and the beta!

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**No Bridge Too High (v2)**

The ominous dull wet snap of the first board was a dead give away that the rusted hulk of bridge, with its thick wooden cross ties, was nearing the end of its useful life. When Sheppard and his team had originally crossed the bridge, the wooden planks, which resembled Earth railroad ties, had been bone dry. In the intervening hours, while they were off chasing _yet_ another wild goose, the structure had been soaked by the steady drizzle. Thoroughly sodden, the narrow wooden track was now soft and slippery with mildew that had posed little threat when they had crossed the bridge only a few hours earlier.

Through the worst of the storm, the team had found shelter in a small cave thanks to Teyla's wilderness skills. With the worst of the lightening and thunder over, they had started their long journey back towards the gate. During the first soggy hour of their homeward return trek, Rodney complained loudly that their army-issued caps were poorly designed when it came to the dynamics of rainfall. He was just beginning to hit his perfect martyrdom stride when a brief and very pointed comment from Ronon had reduced the volume level of his complaints to mumbled threats of a lawsuit if he caught pneumonia and died. Sheppard gleefully pointed out that if Rodney were dead, he would be in no position to sue anyone. Whether the smile on the colonel's face came from Rodney's obvious annoyance at having this fault in logic pointed out to him, or merely the contemplation of the sweet silence that would result from the scientist's untimely death, was anyone's guess.

To add to the depressing atmosphere, the mission had been a bust. There had been nothing left of value at the ancient outpost and it had taken much longer than it normally should have to search it. A natural electrical field on the planet was severely limiting the range of their radios. Because they were on an unexplored planet with limited communication, Sheppard preferred that they all stay in visual contact, which had curbed their ability to split up and search the place more efficiently. Rodney, always easily distracted, found even the useless bits of trash the ancients left behind fascinating. It had been a constant battled to keep him on track as they explored what was left of the small settlement, which only slowed their progress further. The power that had attracted them to the outpost in the first place seemed to be coming from a device that remotely monitored gate activity. The small crystal that provided the power to the device died in Rodney's hands as he tried to free it; yet another used-up, worthless hunk of junk courtesy of the Ancients. It was almost laughably annoying--their own arrival had set off the only thing that had power at the outpost; that power was what had attracted them to the outpost in the first place; and their presence had used up the last of that power. Even McKay finally agreed the whole thing had been an incredible waste of time.

A brief discussion was held when they reached the gorge again and realized how much the rain had changed the condition of the bridge. What had first seemed to be a light and airy structure was now a heavily waterlogged sponge that creaked ominously in the slightest breeze. Teyla took point, followed by Rodney, then Sheppard and Ronon. The logical order was to proceed by weight, lightest in front, heaviest in back. Technically, that meant that Sheppard would have gone second. As leader of their group, he preferred to put the others' safety ahead of his own. Logic won out though and he compromised. Rodney would go second, but Ronon would go last, being the heaviest of the group and the most likely stress the water-burdened beams.

Once the Athosian had made it about a quarter of the way across the bridge, Sheppard had given Rodney a prod to get him going. By the time Teyla was in the middle, Rodney was well on his way. Sheppard, followed by Ronon, stepped out onto the slick wet beams, careful to keep themselves evenly spaced.

Their arrangement turned out to be a good call. Several beams had cracked under the strain of Ronon's passing. Though none had given way yet, Sheppard had doubts they would have been able to safely support Teyla's small frame once the runner had passed over them.

It had also been a toss up whether to walk along the edge of the bridge, which had the most underlying structural support, or walking more towards the middle of boards which gave some safety margin for the slick footing. Even Teyla's nimble steps gave way to occasional short skids as they made their way carefully along the structure so the group had taken what they hoped was the least of two evils and stayed as far away from the edges as possible. At least the rain had finally tapered off.

"Handrails would have been a good idea," griped Rodney as he slowly made his way from board to board, then froze as the beam beneath his left foot gave a dull wet snap. Both he and Teyla paused tensely, neither taking their next step. One mistake could lead to a long deadly drop into the gorge and its raging boulder-strewn river below. The steep shale walls and turbulent water would mean certain death for anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in the river's clutches; assuming, of course, they survived the fall in the first place.

Sheppard had raised his left hand at the foreboding snap, immediately stilling Ronon at his six. "Okay, everyone," he called out, "Nice and easy. McKay, even out your weight and stay put, Teyla take it slow."

It was a superfluous order. The scientist remained stock-still, barely breathing, his eyes riveted to each lithe footstep he was to follow. Once Teyla reached the other side, Sheppard saw McKay's shoulders sag, whether from relief at the Athosian's safe passage or fearful anticipation of his own was uncertain. "Okay, Rodney, you're up. Just take it slow and easy. One step at a time."

"You know, maybe we should …"

"Rodney," warned Sheppard.

"No, really. I have a bad feeling about this..."

"_You're_ the one who convinced us to cross this thing in the first place."

"It's _my_ fault there were energy readings on the other side?"

"There's no turning back now, so unless you want to spend the rest of your life on this bridge..."

Glancing towards Teyla, the scientist appeared to do some quick mental calculations factoring in the distance and the likely weight tolerance of the debilitated beams. Judging by the worried scowl on his face, the equation had a depressing result. "Seriously, I think…"

"Shut up. Stop stalling. And _move_, McKay!"

Shoulders sagging in defeat, the scientist took a tentative step. "Zelenka just _had_ to bring donuts this morning."

Both annoyed and amused, a mental conflict that often resulted when dealing with Rodney McKay, Sheppard shot off a snappy reply. "Nobody_made_ you eat them."

Rodney didn't appear to have heard him and had stopped in his tracks again only few yards further on, one foot hovering uncertainly.

"McKay?"

Turning slightly, the scientist yelled over his shoulder. "The next one looks rotten."

"They all look rotten," remarked Ronon impatiently, though not loud enough for Rodney to hear.

"Go over it to the next board instead," suggested Sheppard, shaking his head at having to give such basic instructions to a man with Rodney's self-touted genius-level I.Q. The beams were spaced about a foot apart so that meant that Rodney would have to jump a bit to reach the next one. Mentally, he took the leap with the scientist, exhaling only after the board held and Rodney managed to maintain his balance. "You're doing great. You're at the halfway point now." He received an acknowledging nod from the back of the scientist's head.

Rodney made it another few feet without incident before he, Sheppard, and Ronon all froze simultaneously following another muffled'thunk'. In the fraction of a second, the rotted wood split down the middle and begin to fall apart. Rodney scrambled to the next plank just before it, too, began to crack. His feet slipped and he was suddenly dangling in mid-air. Shouts urging him to 'hang on' echoed from both sides. Stretching over the damaged board, he managed to hook his fingers over the next beam. Kicking out wildly, he pulled himself up onto his stomach and crawled away from the hole left by his passing. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, he chanted "no more donuts, no more donuts" between heaving breaths.

Sheppard edged forward to close some of the gap between them, but not so close as to stress that already overburdened section of the bridge. "Rodney?" He would have liked to give the scientist a chance to catch his breath but it was obvious that they were already on borrowed time; besides, the longer they delayed the more time Rodney had to think about how much physical danger he was in and the last thing they needed to deal with now was Rodney freezing up. "Break time's over, you can rest on the other side."

A wavering reply finally broke the silence. "I'm going to _kill_ Zelenka when we get back."

For the scientist, snark was always a positive sign that a kick in the ass would get him moving. Sheppard took another tentative step which was rewarded by an ominous creak as the mushy wood gave slightly and started to split at the ends, pulling away a tiny bit from the corroded bolts that held it in place. "Come on, I want to make it back before the Marines hit the chow line," he urged, watching the board carefully.

"Don't talk to me about food," insisted the scientist as he began to rise unsteadily to his feet.

The non sequitur caused Sheppard to exchange a quick grin with Ronon over his shoulder before replying. "You'll be whistling another tune as soon as we're on firm ground."

Ronon was carefully studying the bridge, slowly but deliberately picking out his next few likely steps. "How can you whistle and eat at the same time?"

"It's just an express…never mind." Sheppard grimaced as water pooled around his foot when the next board compressed slightly under his weight. Minutes later he gave a small wave of approval as Rodney made it to relatively firm ground, joining Teyla on the far end of the ravine to watch anxiously as their teammates followed. More creaking and another dull thud had him glancing back briefly to check the runner's progress.

"Still here," the deep voice assured him.

Now at the gaping hole left by Rodney's encounter, Sheppard could see the long drop. Thundering water sloshed furiously against the base of the stone abutment that supported the midpoint of their bridge. A lifetime of pounding had begun to eat away at the stone support. Decrepit arch beams and aged metal tie wires were deeply pock marked with rust from a century without maintenance. The beam that had fallen with Rodney's passing had disappeared completely in the boiling froth below.

Their friendly dry bridge, basking in the early morning sunshine, was long gone. This bitch had taken her place instead. Mentally Sheppard added yet another thing to watch out for when it came to Murphy's Law and how it applied to the Pegasus Galaxy. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on his teammate's progress and found the big guy waiting impatiently.

"Well?" Ronon rumbled. "You posin' for animal crackers or what?"

Sheppard chuckled. "You've been spending too much time with the Marines. Do you even know what animal crackers are?"

Shrugging, Ronon replied, "I know I want to get off this damn bridge."

The smile died on Sheppard's lips as the sound of new cracking and snapping filled the air. The low haunting moan of iron under strain made every hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Several of the beams behind Ronon squeaked as they pulled loose from their bolts and disappeared.

Multiple cries of "Sheppard!" and "Ronon!" echoed across the gorge from their teammates.

Throwing caution to the wind, both men begin running for the safety of solid ground. Beams snapped from the weight of their passing and the structure continued to groan in pain. The gaps across the bridge span widened as more water-ladened beams broke free and further weakened the metal structure by bouncing off corroded iron crossbraces and snapping tie rods on their way to the hungry torrent of whitewater far below.

As the bridge shuddered and twisted, Sheppard jumped a missing tie and lost his footing, sliding dangerously close to the edge. He could hear Rodney and Teyla yelling his name in alarm. Windmilling his arms to successfully regain his balance, he froze. The structure seemed to do the same. After a long moment, he let out the breath he was holding and flashed a smile of triumph at Ronon. It disappeared as the section of bridge beneath his feet vanished. "Oh craaaaaaa…"

"Sheppard!"

His brief freefall ended abruptly with the sudden jarring impact of steel meeting bone, crushing the breath from his chest. Blind instinct alone made him grab desperately at any support despite the dizzying pain.

There was a brief surge of head-clearing adrenaline just as the few remaining ties that connected to the arch beam screeched and began to give way under him. He grappled for another one only to have it disintegrate in his hands and found himself falling again. When his chest jarred against more aged iron, he mechanically caught it, hugging tight despite the agony that shot through his body.

The iron beams groaned with his sudden unexpected weight. Rivets snapped with the sound of gunshots as the bridge continued to collapse in upon itself taking Sheppard on a heart-stopping ride over open air and water. Ducking his head from the debris that continued to fall from above, he desperately tried to wrap his legs around the beam but wound up entangled in the strap of his P-90. Deadly missiles thumped heavily around him and he yelped as one grazed him on its way to a watery death. Vision graying, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on to consciousness much longer.

The bridge gave one more violent shuddering screech as it settled tentatively into its new formation. Silence slowly blanketed the gorge as Sheppard slipped away into darkness.

**to be continued... **


	2. Chapter 2

As the last screeching echo faded, Ronon managed to pry his fingers from their death grip. He had had no choice but to hang on and watch helplessly as Sheppard disappeared into the twisted mass of timber and iron. It was all he could do not to be thrown from the bridge himself as he was flung about. Even now he could hear Teyla's and Rodney's faint panicked calls from the southern edge of the ravine.

The bridge had given way on each side of its central support, cutting them off completely from their teammates. A few ties still jutted out from the damp wall beneath Rodney and Teyla's location, clinging stubbornly to the side of the gorge. The remainder of the twisted wreckage that had been the southern half of the bridge periodically appeared and disappeared far below as the swift current of water raged over and around it.

To the north, the bridge had snapped midway between the central support and the edge of the canyon. Unlike the southern end, the sections remained connected, and the twisted beams had intersected in a rough "v" shape which dipped dangerously towards the river below. At the moment, the two pieces seemed to be supporting themselves against each other, but how securely and for how long was anyone's guess. Ronon through it might be possible to climb the ruins like a ladder to reach solid ground on that side of the gorge. He had other priorities at the moment, though.

"Sheppard?" he yelled down into the wreckage below him, straining his ears for a reply, then jumped as his radio squelched loudly to life with a mix of static and Rodney's tinny voice demanding someone answer him. He unclipped his radio and obliged. "Shut up!"

There was an incoherent sputter and the radio fell silent. Teyla's influence, no doubt.

"Sheppard!" he called again. This time he was sure he heard something from below and to his left. He climbed down several feet before stopping to call the colonel's name again. Though it was too faint to make out the exact words, it was definitely Sheppard's voice that replied.

Scaling his way several yards further down the debris, he finally found his teammate entangled among twisted, rusted metal and the nylon straps of his P-90 and backpack, suspended dangerously over open air. Sheppard blinked blearily at him and said something but his breathing was so harsh it was difficult to understand.

"What?"

"…look like… mutant…Spiderman…on steroids…"

"You okay?" The creases of pain on the colonel's face were an obvious give away that he had not been as lucky as Ronon.

Sheppard shook his head slightly but didn't elaborate. "What…the hell…?"

Hunkered against wood and steel, Ronon took stock of their situation. "Damn bridge fell apart."

"Ya…think?"

The breathless comeback motivated the runner to risk the climb out onto a damaged beam. It held dubiously beneath his weight.

"_Colonel Sheppard, Ronon, please come in."_ Teyla's worried voice crackled over the radio.

Grasping a support with one hand, Ronon managed to unhook his radio from his belt. "Teyla," he acknowledged

"_Ronon? Rodney and I cannot see you from our position. Are you and Colonel Sheppard all right?"_

"Sheppard's in trouble," he replied as he eyed the mess in front of him. "Hung up on some metal. Maybe hurt, too."

"_What do you mean 'maybe'?"_ Rodney asked_. "I can't...OW!"_

"_The edge is unstable, Rodney, stay back."_

"_You could have just _said_ that, you didn't need to dislocate my shoulder…"_

Teyla pointedly ignored the bitching in the background and continued her attempt to assess the situation. _"How badly is the __colonel injured?" _

Ronon studied the dangling man before him. "He doesn't look good, pale and breathing funny."

"_Oh god, he's dying."_

"_Rodney, you do not know that." _

A cold damp breeze wafted up from the gorge base, ruffling wayward locks of the colonel's thick short hair against his forehead as he swung gently from the entangled straps.

"_Ronon, we can climb down, try to get a rope across to you…"_

The runner studied the cliff face. It would be tricky, even with a full range of specialized climbing equipment. All Teyla and Rodney had were a few lengths of rope and some odds and ends in their pack. No, a makeshift descent like the one Teyla was proposing was a deadly proposition at best. "It's too dangerous. Have Atlantis send back help and plenty of gear."

"_I can stay, just in case you might need something," _Rodney offered.

Ronon shook his head at the huge span of free air between Rodney and himself. What did the scientist think he could do for them? Even Ronon couldn't throw that far. It was easy for him to picture Rodney spending the intervening time peering anxiously over the edge of the gorge. All they needed was for him to stray a little too close to the unstable edge of the chasm. McKay had saved their butts on many occasions and Ronon wasn't ready to part with him permanently yet, despite how annoying the man could be sometimes--strike that--_most_ times. On the other hand, the scientist would be the first to admit he was no runner and Teyla would undoubtedly be focused on getting back to Atlantis as soon as possible. With their communication problems, he wasn't sure they'd be found unless someone actually led help to them. Sending two people was insurance. It meant there was a back-up if something unforeseen happened to one of them. Looking at Sheppard, it was obvious the injured man was in no shape to be making command decisions. He decided to hedge his bet. "McKay, go with Teyla and watch her back." At least he wouldn't have to put up with Rodney's constant chatter that way. Let Teyla deal with the scientist, _he_ needed to focus all his attention on Sheppard right now.

"_But…"_

"_Come Rodney. Atlantis won't miss us until nightfall, but we can make it back several hours sooner if we hurry. _ Her unspoken, "They may need those hours" hung in the air._ "Ronon, John, we'll return with help as quickly as possible. Teyla out."_

Ronon clicked the radio to stand-by mode before McKay decided to say something else and returned his focus to the problem at hand. "Sheppard?"

"Love to…hang…'round….but can't…breathe."

Retrieving the small leather handled knife he kept tucked in his boot, Ronon started slicing through Sheppard's tangled straps. "Have to cut you free." The P-90 slipped through the air to land hundreds of feet below and disappeared beneath the swirling water. He paused, knife resting against the final strap to the backpack. He hated to do it, especially with the medical supplies it contained, but he didn't see any other way around it.

"What's…wrong?"

"It's you or the pack."

"I…pick…me!"

Ronon gave a grim smile, wrapped his left arm around a support tie, and grabbed Sheppard's belt. With his right hand, he sliced through the last strap. The colonel clutched at the beam in reflex as he swung free but Ronon's strong grip kept him from falling. The runner shifted and caught him under the torso pulling him to the relative safety of his perch.

"Thought I… was gonna…fall," Sheppard panted painfully.

"Not this time," said Ronon, easing his grip when he felt Sheppard struggling to breathe against the restrictive hold. "Better?"

Nodding, the colonel took a cautious shallow breath. "Thanks."

Knowing they were far from safe, Ronon shifted backwards, pulling Sheppard off the straining angle iron and onto a larger support beam. While it was barely wide enough for both men to sit on, and left their legs dangling over thin air, it seemed substantially more stable than anything else within easy reach. Loose pieces of jagged metal and wood tumbled free at their movement and the metal around them groaned quietly in protest before settling reluctantly back into silence.

Time to take stock of their situation. "Where're you hurt?"

"The list… would be shorter… if I started…with what…didn't." After a few moments, he seemed to narrow it down. "Ribs…mostly…right leg…too. You okay?" he asked, apparently noticing the runner's blackened eye and skinned cheek.

Ronon prodded at his cheekbone and shrugged. "Just bruises."

"…love to know…how you…managed…that."

"Just lucky I guess." Careful of Sheppard's injuries, he unzipped the colonel's utility vest and slit the shoulders free of the weight, hanging it on an obliging piece of twisted metal nearby. The spongy bruise on the colonel right side was a bad omen. Already he missed the ace bandage from Sheppard's pack that could have been used to wrap and support the injured ribs. The colonel's darker right pant leg caught his attention as well. "Can you lift up your leg? I can't see it from this angle."

Sheppard groaned back at his complaining ribs as he slowly complied. "How bad?" he gasped.

It was awkward as hell, trying to find a position where he could get a good look without putting them both in danger of falling, but Ronon managed to find a foothold that allowed him to lean over and get a close up view the injury. "Bad enough." He quickly steadied Sheppard when the colonel overbalanced trying to get a better look at the wound. "You got a piece of metal in there that needs to come out."

Looking pale and slightly nauseous at the thought, Sheppard replied, "You know how Carson hates it when you start ripping things out of legs, maybe we should just leave it alone."

Ronon shook his head sympathetically. "It's a risk, but you're bleeding pretty heavily and I can't get to it well enough to keep pressure on it for any length of time." Reaching over, he unhooked the vest and dug through the pockets, finding an emergency compression bandage in the pocket. Luckily, Sheppard was one of those people who didn't believe in putting all his eggs in one basket--or backpack. He did a quick inventory transferred the rest of the useful items into his own pockets. "Ready?"

"No."

"Good, swing around so I can get at it."

Sheppard did as he was bidden, wrapping a hanging broken tie wire around his arm twice for support and balance.

Cutting through the pant leg with his knife, Ronon prodded carefully around the wound estimating the depth and angle of impalement. Despite Carson's opinion otherwise, he did use _some_ common sense. The metal shard had done its share of damage but the chances were relatively good that removing it would not greatly worsen the injury. Left in, there was a very real possibility it could be driven even deeper and severe the artery if it made contact with anything else or if Sheppard put any stress on it, such as was likely to happen during a mad scramble to safety. "Ready?"

Nodding, Sheppard tightened his grip on the wire and gritted his teeth in anticipation. "Do it."

Worried about how long the injured man would be able to maintain his grip against the shock and pain, Ronon moved as fast as he dared, quickly working the twisted fragment free and bandaging the wound tightly. The colonel was shaking and sweating by the time he was done, barely hanging on to consciousness.

Straddling the beam and using an upright support for a backrest, Ronon eased Sheppard back against his chest, giving the colonel a secure place to catch his breath and recover from the impromptu surgery without the fear of falling. "Take these," he said, pulling out some of the salvaged Tylenol from his coat pocket. They weren't much, but they were better than nothing.

Dry-swallowing the pills, Sheppard relaxed against the runner's chest and closed his eyes. Ronon wrapped his arms around him, securing him in place and keeping the weakened man from slipping off their ledge. Tipping his face up to look at the runner, Sheppard said wryly, "You realize in my retelling of this story you'll be a hot blonde instead, right?"

Ronon chuckled.

**to be continued... **


	3. Chapter 3

Sheppard's breathing had settled into a lightly hitched cadence that never seemed to ease fully enough to allow him to take a deep breath.

"Ronon?"

The raspy voice caught the dosing runner off guard. "Thought you were sleeping."

"Can't get… comfortable," Sheppard wheezed

"Water?" Ronon offered the remainder of his canteen.

The colonel drank deeply before returning the bottle. Shifting yet again in a vain attempt to find some relief from his aching ribs, he sighed in frustration. "I hate…Murphy's law!"

"This Murphy a friend of yours?"

"No…"

"Then who is he?"

"Just a guy."

"Okay," acknowledged Ronon congenially.

Not one to humored, Sheppard elaborated, "A guy…on Earth…had this law."

"What's it got to do with old bridges?"

Sheppard's surprised chuckle quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Gasping, he doubled over, attempting to catch his breath. Only Ronon's strong grip stopped him from tumbling from their roost. "Think I…broke… ribs," he wheezed once he could catch is breath. "Hurts like…a mother. Any more…Tylenol…left?"

Ronon shifted slightly to check his watch then dug out the last few tablets and handed them over along with their remaining water. Sheppard downed them and emptied the canteen. Closing his eyes, the injured man settled back to wait for what little relief the pain meds could offer. After about an hour, his respiration had slowed and he seemed able to take slightly deeper breaths.

Thunder rumbled quietly in the distance. Cocking a concerned eye at the thickly overcast sky, Ronon retrieved his radio from the belt at his hip. "McKay, Teyla, come in." No response. He hadn't expected one. They were still hours away from rescue and the rest of their team would now be out of the limited radio range of this particular planet. It would be nightfall before they could expect help to arrive and he had the sinking suspicion that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.

"How long?"

The inquiry worked its way into his distracted thoughts and he blinked down at the injured man. "How long until what?"

Sheppard nodded towards the dark horizon. "Before we get drenched."

"An hour…" As lightening lit up the gray sky in the distance and thunder boomed closer, Ronon quickly reevaluated his timetable. "…maybe less."

Guess we'd better get moving then."

The runner cast him a wary eye. "You don't look much up to climbing."

"I don't feel much like frying either. We're sitting dead smack in the middle of the biggest lightening rod this sorry excuse for a planet has to offer."

Not to mention the possibilities of the gorge wall giving way, Ronon knew. The bridge collapse had scored deep gashes in the north face of the canyon, gouging out rocks and divesting it of most of the vegetation that had served to stabilize it. Fresh raw earth, ripe for erosion, gleamed dully around the few twisted bridge supports that remained embedded in the canyon wall. If they went, Ronon knew, so would the rest of the bridge, taking them with it.

"How's the leg?" asked the runner as he worked his way carefully to his feet. His own bruised and stiffened muscles protested the movement but he steadfastly ignored them.

"Hurts like hell."

Securing his footing, he reached down to give Sheppard a hand up, allowing the injured man time to slowly work his way into a standing position. Longing for the hank of rope they normally carried on trips, he blurted out, "Wish we still had your pack."

"Could have let me fall instead… then you wouldn't have…needed it… would you?" wheezed Sheppard in an attempt at levity. Standing had obviously antagonized his broken ribs and he was back to taking shallow short breaths. Ronon hesitated for a moment, wondering if they were making the right decision.

"We…climbing…outta here…or are you…posing for…animal crackers?" teased Sheppard, giving the bigger man a game grin.

"Yeah," Ronon sighed, still uncertain. "Let's get moving."

A few big fat drops begin to fall around them as they started their climb.

Sheppard grimaced. Great…out of the frying pan…into the fire."

Ronon knew sarcasm when he heard it but didn't understand this particular application. A fire would be an asset to them at the moment. In fact, if they could make it to solid ground, Ronon felt fairly sure he could rig a shelter and start a small fire despite the dampness that seemed to penetrate this god forsaken world.

The twisted mass of metal supports and spires looked deceptively easy to scale but handholds turned out to be slippery at best and often crumbled unexpectedly beneath their hands. The rain steadily increased making it difficult to see and judge distances. Sheppard struggled gamely and Ronon helped him as much as he could, but it was rough going. Occasionally pieces of the bridge would break free and disappear silently into the mist below. Both men would freeze as their shifting weight caused the wreckage to rebalance itself, holding their breath until it slowly stabilized.

Several worrisome slips and one wild, desperate jump later, Ronon finally surrendered and called a halt to their climb. Even if they had both been uninjured and had decent climbing gear, he would have doubted their chances of making it to the northern edge of the canyon in one piece. If he had been on his own, he might have risked it. He had other obligations now, though.

"I…can…keep…going," insisted a gasping Sheppard as they recovered from their near miss. A beam had suddenly shifted and then disappeared beneath their feet. They had both leaped to safety and it had been a hard landing.

"No, you can't."

"I'm fine…just need…to catch…my breath."

Ronon shook his head. "You're not fine, you blacked out."

"No… just…resting."

"Unconscious is more like it."

"I can…keep….going," Sheppard insisted again.

"We're just going to get ourselves killed," Ronon replied, settling the colonel into a cocoon of rusted metal. At least their efforts hadn't gone entirely to waste. Where they were now offered a wider platform of steel supports and allowed them a greater range of movement without the risk of falling. There was also an area a few feet from their current position that he hoped would facilitate a rescue attempt. "We'll wait here. Teyla and Rodney will be back soon with help."

"Yeah," gasped Sheppard. "Okay."

The unusually quick acquiescence hinted at what Sheppard refused to admit aloud. Ronon knew colonel had banged his ribs badly when they jumped. The spontaneous leap had resulted in a very rough landing and the resulting pain and strain in his leader's face were clear to see.

Ronon made him as comfortable as possible. Taking off his own long brown coat, he spread it over a beam above their heads. It wasn't much but at least the makeshift shelter offered them a little bit of reprieve from the torrents of water pouring from the sky.

"Let me get a look at that leg," he said, crouching down.

Sheppard obliged and shifted slightly.

Sure enough, the bandaged was soaked through, more pink now than red thanks to the rain. Ronon cut it off and discard it. Pulling a fresh dressing from his pocket, he tore the edge open with his teeth and set to work, making a neat job of it.

Examining the newly bandaged leg, Sheppard nodded his approval. "Good job…on that. Carson…taught…you well."

"Not Carson," said the runner, stretching out under their impromptu tent and settling down beside his teammate to wait.

"Oh?"

"Somebody else. A long time ago." He could feel Sheppard's eyes on him.

"She was…a nurse…right?"

"Yeah," said Ronon, staring out into the growing darkness. "I met her during basic training, she was giving lessons in first-aid."

"And she…immediately...fell for your…charm and…good looks?"

"Not exactly." Ronon laughed. "I won her over though…eventually." His voice softened as he continued to reminiscence. "She refused to evacuate when we were attacked. Wouldn't leave her patients behind."

After a long moment of silence, Sheppard said, "Sounds like…a special…person."

"Yeah, she was."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago." He shrugged as if trying to shake off the melancholy and gave Sheppard a half smile. "You should try and get some rest."

"Yeah. Okay."

It didn't take long for the exhausted man to succumb to sleep. Soon, Ronon had only the persistent gray rain and his memories for company.

-o-

In the hours that followed the vain attempt at escaping their metal prison, Sheppard's breathing began to take on an unhealthy wet sound. Ronon sighed. He was tired of wet: wet air, wet clothes, wet metal, wet hair. He realized he had gotten soft and spoiled on Atlantis. There had been plenty of times on the run when he had been wet for days, even weeks, on end. Generally, the wraith disliked dampness and avoided it unless there was something substantial to gain by braving the discomfort. Sheppard had once joked that it was because it made their hair frizzy.

As if sensing the runner's thoughts about him, the colonel shifted uncomfortably and began to cough. Ronon supported him while the hacking continued. When it finally stopped, he eased the injured man back, encouraging him to rest. He didn't mention the bloody froth at the colonel's lips. There was no need. They both knew Sheppard was in trouble and they both also knew there was nothing that could be done about it. No need to belabor the point by discussing it.

"You know," gasped Sheppard as his eyes slid shut again. "If the ancients…would just learn…to turn…the damn…lights off…when they leave…a planet…we'd find…ourselves…in a lot…less trouble."

Ronon heartily agreed. Standing up to stretch his cramped muscles, he looked out over the gorge. The rain had finally tapered off again and the river had disappeared into a heavy mist that was slowly making its way up the gorge walls. The bits of the mangled bridge that peaked through the thick haze resembled the photos of prehistoric Earth animals Weir had once shown him. It was a shame really. The bridge had been sort of pretty. Oh, not in a stunningly- elegant Ancient sort of way. Obviously there had been other inhabitants of this world at some point who had felt the inane need to span the ravine; though for the life of him, Ronon couldn't figure out why. One day they probably walked through the gate onto another planet, saw a brightly shining sun and blue skies, and died of pure shock. He sighed. It was unfair to judge a planet based on one miserable day but he couldn't help himself.

Another small gasping cough caused him to look down. Sheppard was watching him with dull, glazed eyes. For a brief moment Ronon wished he was on the run again, responsible only for himself. It passed quickly though. Sheppard and the people of Atlantis had resurrected a part of him he had thought long dead, healed a part of him he hadn't even realized was broken. No, this kind of responsibility was a small price to pay for all he had gained.

Crouching back down beside his injured teammate, he felt the colonel's neck for a pulse. It was faint and fast. Sheppard was slipping away, his body surrendering to shock of its injuries and the chill dampness. He'd seen it happen to men before. Pulling his jacket back down from its perch above them, he tucked in beside the injured man and wrapped it snugly around both of them to conserve as much body heat as possible. "Hang on, Sheppard. It won't be much longer now," he whispered quietly.

Bleary, hazel, pain-filled eyes cracked open briefly. "Whad'dar…you doin'?"

"Talk to me," encouraged Ronon, hoping it would help Sheppard rally.

"'bout what?"

The runner grasped for a subject. "Tell me about your friend, Murphy."

"Who?" was the sleepy, muffled reply.

Squeezing Sheppard's arm gently to get his full attention, Ronon prompted, "Murphy, the man who built bridges."

"Didn'…build…bridges."

"Then what did he do?"

"Murphy's…Law."

"Yeah, you said that already. What does it _mean_?"

"Says…'anything… that can…go wrong…will…go wrong'."

"Welcome to Pegasus," Ronon dryly replied.

"Mmmph. Thanks."

**to be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

"Rodney, sit down, you're making me nervous," demanded Carson.

Lorne had already banished the scientist from the cockpit area, actually closing the bulkhead door between them in exasperation. The cargo bay was cramped with all sorts of equipment and Rodney's pacing meant he was stepping over Teyla and Carson's legs with each circuit he made of their tiny compartment.

"I pace when I'm anxious, okay?"

"Ronon and the colonel will be okay," said Teyla but her voice lacked its usual confident ring.

Carson continued to double-check his hastily packed medical supplies and let out an exasperated sound when Rodney stepped over him yet again. "Unless you want a sedative forcefully injected into your backside, you'll settle down," he threatened.

It took some searching for the scientist to find a clear place to sit. "Lorne must have been a boy scout as a child."

"He wanted to be well-prepared," volunteered Teyla. "He also picked men with ample climbing and rescue experience."

Lorne's voice came over the intercom, apparently he had been eavesdropping. "We'll have them back on Atlantis before you know it."

"Yes, because dark and rainy are such _perfect_ rescue conditions," snapped Rodney.

Teyla bit her lip and remained silent. Carson knew it was a sure sign she was worried. He had begun to learn her more subtle expressions during their stick-fighting training sessions. Sheppard had insisted everyone on the base learn some form of self-defense that didn't require a blaster or a P-90. After seeing Ronon's sessions with the Marines, the doctor had decided maybe Teyla's calm, gentle spirit would be a better match for him. Unfortunately, she seemed to leave them at the door of the exercise room. He rubbed ruefully at bruised muscle in his back as he returned his attention to inventorying his medical supplies.

The bulkhead door slid open. "Come check this out," invited Lorne. The three crowded up front, elbowing Lorne's handpicked rescue team out of their way. The lights of the jumper shined dimly on the remains of a twisted mass of rusty metal.

"That's it!" exclaimed Rodney excitedly.

"Really?" remarked Lorne dryly but made no comment when the scientist pushed one of the Marines aside so he could reach the radio.

"Ronon? Sheppard? Can you hear me?"

There was a long moment of silence before the radio came to life with a static-ridden _"…about time."_

"How's Sheppard?"

"_Not good."_

Lorne took over the radio controls. "We can't pinpoint your exact location, do you have a light?"

"Yeah, I think, hold on." A few seconds later, a dim glint could be seen below them.

"We got you." Looking at Rodney hopefully, Lorne said, "It sure would be easier if we could just repel down to them from here."

"Jumpers just aren't made for that sort of thing. If I had a week to disable all the safety protocols and retro fit the jumper with …"

"I get it." Lorne waved McKay's tirade to a halt and turned to his second in command. "We'll just have to do it the old fashioned way."

Landing at the southern end, Lorne's team debarked and started offloading equipment. The clouds were clearing and a full moon broke through shining brightly down on them. It seemed like a good omen.

"We should have a direct line of fire from here," he explained to the doctor. "If we can get a zip line over to them, you can send over some supplies."

The radio on Lorne's belt rumbled to life. "We're ready, sir."

"Heads up, Ronon, we're shooting a line over to you."

"_Roger that."_

The major nodded permission and the Marine took careful aim with the bazooka-like object on his shoulder. There was a loud bang that made Carson and Rodney jump followed by the zing of the line whizzing its way across the open water.

When it came to a stop, Lorne clicked on the radio. "How's our aim?"

"_Pretty good."_

He nodded to his team who began tying a thicker cable to the one that had been shot across. When they were finished, he told Ronon, "Ready when you are."

The cable snaked its way slowly across the open air as Ronon reeled it in.

"_Tied off."_

"Roger that."

Lorne's men attached the cable to the pulley system they had rigged up and slowly began pulling out the slack.

"I'm ready when you are," announced Beckett, sliding on his backpack.

"Sorry, Doc, you're sitting this one out from the sidelines."

Carson drew himself up nose to nose with the major. His words were slow and measured. "Son, if those men are injured, I'll need to treat them."

Lorne's eyes reflected no intimidation and perhaps a glint of amusement at the doctor's attempt at bravado and the mistaken belief that he had a shot in hell of bullying his way past a major in the United States Air Force. "Sorry, Doc. _Nobody_ is going over there. It's too risky."

Their eyes locked for a moment longer before the doctor slumped slightly in defeat. Lorne actually looked a little sorry for him.

"We'll have a zip line ready in a minute. You'll be able to send over supplies and talk Ronon through whatever needs to be done," he offered.

"Ronon's not my first choice as a nurse."

"He's all you got, Doc" said Lorne, waving to one of his men to bring him a spare handset. The major radioed the stranded runner. "Ronon, the doc needs to talk to you, channel two."

"_Copy."_

Adjusting the borrowed radio to the proper frequency, he handed it over to the doctor and waved him back out of harm's way.

Carson reluctantly complied, finding a quiet spot nearby where he could talk uninterrupted. "Ronon, I understand from Teyla and Rodney that Colonel Sheppard may have been injured?

"_Yeah. He's not doing so good at the moment."_

"Can you give me a more specific assessment?" he asked, trying to keep the bite out of his voice.

"_Sorry. He's got some broken ribs, maybe punctured a lung. It's hard for him to breath and he's coughing up blood."_

"Anything else?"

"_He's also got a leg wound but the bleeding's stopped."_

"Right. Any head injuries?"

"_Don't think so."_

"He lose consciousness at any time?"

"_In and out for the last hour or so but I think it's from the pain. He's hurting pretty bad and we ran out of Tylenol a long time ago."_

"Is he talking? Lucid?

"_He was a little while ago but it started to aggravate his cough so we stopped."_

Lorne's thumbs up caught his attention. "Alright, I'm going to send some supplies over to you and then I'll talk you through what I want you to do with them."

"_Roger."_

Pausing to hand his backpack to Lorne to clip onto the zip line, he returned his attention to the radio. "Tell me about _your_ injuries."

"_What?"_

He rolled his eyes and looked to heavens for patience. "I asked where_you_ were injured, son."

"_I'm fine."_

Patiently, Beckett let the long awkward silence stretch to the breaking point.

"_Just a few bumps and bruises. I've been hurt lots worse stick-fighting with Teyla."_

"Haven't we all," sighed Carson, absently rubbing the sore spot on his back.

"_I've got the stuff. What do you want me to do?"_

"You might want to put him completely out," suggested Lorne who had walked over again to confirm the arrival of the backpack. "It's going to be a rough ride for him no matter how we do it."

The doctor acknowledged the suggestion with a nod. "Ronon, I'd like you to get me some vitals and then we'll need to start an I.V."

-o-

Ronon hated needles. Oh, not in the way most people did. He wasn't afraid of their tiny mosquitoesque bites. They just reminded him too forcibly of what the Wraith had done to him and what dozens of subsequent bumbling doctors had done over the years trying to _undo_ it. All unsuccessfully until Carson Beckett came along. Because of that, he held the Atlantis doctor in a little higher regard than most people, and tried to be patient with the nonstop list of questions and instructions he was being bombarded with.

"Got his ribs wrapped like you wanted them and the I.V. is in."

"_And you injected all the medications we talked about directly into the I.V. port?"_

"Yeah. They seem to have helped. He's breathing a lot easier and is more alert."

"_Good lad. We're sending over a litter basket for him. I want you put him in and strap him down whether he wants to be or not. It's for his own protection and safety. Understand?"_

The runner looked over and saw defiant hazel eyes staring back.

"_Ronon?"_

"Yes, I understand. Out."

"You're not trussing me up like some Thanksgiving turkey and sticking me in that thing," announced Sheppard as the mesh-encased metal stretcher arrived.

They tensed as the bridge gave a low vibrating groan, shuddered, then quieted. Both men relaxed again slightly.

Lorne's voice crackled over the radio._ "You guys okay over there?"_

"Fine for now."

"_I respectfully suggest you get your butts in gear. That thing is looking less stable every minute."_

"Copy." Ronon clipped the radio back onto his belt and reached down to slip his arms under Sheppard.

"What? What do you think you're doing?"

"Either you can get in there," said Ronon, pointing to the basket, "or I can _put_ you in it. Doesn't much matter to me which you choose."

"Alright." When Ronon continued to move closer, he replied more vehemently, "ALRIGHT! You win. Give me a hand."

After tucking Sheppard securely into the basket and making sure the safety straps were snuggly fastened, he radioed Lorne that they were ready. The basket slowly began slide to towards the safety of the southern edge of the gorge just as another screech rent the air. Ronon had to grab for a beam as the bridge shook violently.

-o-

The scream of overstressed metal went straight through to the nerves. Carson, along with everyone else who had free hands, rushed to the edge of the chasm. Their eyes were riveted to the precious silver basket glinting gently in the moonlight as it slowly made its way along the cable.

"Faster," encouraged Lorne, and the two men pulling on the rope attached to the litter picked up the pace. As soon as the basket was over solid ground, they all but ripped it free from the cable. There was a second scream from the bridge and the cable squealed in protest as it was stretched to the breaking point.

"Ronon!" Sheppard began to struggle against the safety straps, coughing violently from the exertion. Teyla knelt down beside the injured man. Drawing her knife, she sliced through the restraints in one smooth movement. After a moment's shock, Carson quickly realized that Teyla was right, Sheppard's thrashing resistance would only make his injuries worse. They both reached out to help the struggling colonel to his feet and supported him to the edge of the gorge.

Ronon hadn't waited for an invitation. He was already making his way along the cable hand over hand, not soon enough though. The bridge gave a final death keen and the northern halves began slowly sliding over each other into the river with the high-pitched shriek of metal against metal. The cable howled in protest, then snapped. Somehow Ronon managed to hang on as the deadly pendulum swung towards the sheer southern cliff face. There was nothing the rest of them could do but watch the scene unfold as he sailed through the air.

There was a group groan as the runner impacted the side of the canyon. How he had managed to maintain his grip was anyone's guess.

"Pull him up!" Sheppard demanded breathlessly but Lorne and his men were already doing so.

After several long, tense minutes, a bedraggled set of dreadlocks crested the edge of the gorge, followed immediately by a very exhausted looking Ronon.

Sheppard started to reach out to give him a hand but Beckett's death grip stopped him and he had to allow Lorne the honors instead.

"Glad you could make it," said Lorne, clasping forearms with Ronon and straining a bit as he pulled him up and over the edge to solid ground.

"Thanks," said the runner, still breathing hard. His glance encompassed the whole group letting them know the sentiment was directed towards all of them.

"Let's go." Beckett gave an encouraging tug on Sheppard's arm. "I'll examine you in the jumper," he added to Ronon.

"In a minute," said Sheppard. He shook off the doctor's hand but swayed dangerously. Ronon immediately reached out and grabbed hold of his arm to steady him then exchanged a quick glance with the doctor.

Beckett hesitated a moment but acquiesced when he seemed to sense the two men needed a moment of peace alone to absorb and process everything that had happened. "_One_ minute. Don't make me come looking for you," he warned before turning to usher the rest of the group towards the jumper.

Both men slowly turned and looked out over the gorge. There was nothing left but a solitary beam sticking out ninety degrees from northern edge. Everything else had vanished into the mist below. A bird cried out, disturbing the silence, as it slipped in and out of the fog following the line of the gorge.

"Well," Sheppard sighed.

"Yeah," replied the runner.

Their eyes met and both men suggested simultaneously, "Let's go home."

They could hear Rodney exclaiming excitedly as they slowly reentered the jumper, Sheppard leaning heavily on Ronon for support, and took a seat in the back. "Did you see that? It was like something right out of Indiana Jones!"

"Yes, we were all there Rodney." Beckett began fussing over Sheppard immediately, brooking no resistance as he swiftly reestablished an I.V., added some additional painkillers, and examined the bandaged ribs. "Dunno how you came out of it unscathed," he added after giving the runner a quick one-over.

"By the way, _you_ have to tell Weir we blew up some of her precious ancient ruins to get the jumper through to rescue you," Rodney told Sheppard.

Teyla frowned at the scientist's lack of empathy. Pointedly eyeing Rodney, she told the two men, "We are glad to have you back. How are you feeling?"

Sheppard met Ronon's eyes and smiled. "Not dead."

Ronon grinned back. "Me either."

"You'll be off active duty for several weeks at least with those injuries," warned Beckett, still fussing over the colonel.

Sheppard sighed, then perked up a little. "Can I visit Earth?"

"I don't see why you can't spend some of your recovery time there once you're released from the infirmary, provided you behave and follow my instructions _to the letter_." The statement was accompanied by a wagging finger and a stern frown.

"Wanna come with?" Sheppard asked Ronon. "Show you the sights."

Cracking his knuckles in a mildly threatening manner, the runner asked, "Think we can find that Murphy guy?"

**END**


End file.
